


i picture it soft, and i ache

by leafvillagebitch



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Light Angst, M/M, Yearning, dennis is dramatic gay bitch, implied eating disorder, light internalized homphobia, light tenderness, post s13, they smoke weed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-08-09 21:54:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20124433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leafvillagebitch/pseuds/leafvillagebitch
Summary: fic based on strawberry blond by mitskidennis yearns and is dramatic as all hell





	i picture it soft, and i ache

**Author's Note:**

> hi this is my first macden fic so like. sorry if it's a little ooc !! unbeta-ed so all mistakes are my own :)

Dennis instinctively reached across the bed for Mac before remembering that he wasn’t there – of course he wasn’t there. Dennis had made sure of that. He started when there was a pounding on his door.

“Dennis! Dennis are you awake?”

“I am now, asshole – what do you want?” He said, rubbing his eyes and swinging his bedroom door open to Mac, who stood there smiling like an idiot.

“Well, we both have the day off so I thought we could like, go to the park and get drunk or something, like… like old times.” Mac stared at his feet.

They still hadn’t talked about it. Dennis knew they needed to, but he couldn’t.

He found that every time he’d opened his mouth to explain, that thing that had buried itself deep inside his chest and wound its way around his heart, crept up his throat and started choking him until he said something cruel.

He debated the pros and cons of going to the park with Mac. On the one hand, it was a beautiful day, and there wasn’t anything better than getting drunk in the sun – on the other hand, any time he and Mac had any time alone it always made that thing squeeze a little tighter.

He realized he had taken too long to answer when Mac started up again.

“I mean… we don’t have to if you don’t want to… I just thought it was a nice day and-“ He looked up at Dennis through his ridiculously long eyelashes.

“Shut up, Mac,” Dennis rubbed his eyes. He sighed. “Fine. I’ll go to the park with you.”

Mac smiled, and Dennis felt his chest tighten.

“Don’t look at me like that -- just… go pack some alcohol and some lunch for us. I have to shower.”

“Great!” Mac sounded almost… surprised? “Are uh… are sandwiches okay?”

Dennis rubbed his temples, knowing that an entire day with Mac would set him on edge enough; he couldn’t possibly be expected to eat, too, right?

“Dennis?” Mac called from the kitchen. Jesus, did he ever shut up?

“Uh… Can you actually grab a couple-”

“Do you want some cereal bars instead?”

“What I want, Mac, is to finish my god damn sentence!” Dennis felt the pressure in his chest ease when he saw the flicker of hurt cross Mac’s face. “Can you just… I should have some yogurt in the fridge. Can you just pack one or two of those?”

Mac looked concerned, which Dennis hated, but nodded all the same.

“Thanks.” Dennis said.

“Can I make you an egg for breakfast?” Mac asked, almost tentatively.

Dennis rolled his eyes, “Sure, you can make it while I'm in the shower.”

He let the water roll over him, so hot it burned a little, and he took just a little too long, but when he emerged from his bedroom there was a singular sunny side up egg next to a large mug of steaming black coffee. The intimacy of it all was enough to make Dennis sick.

He picked at the egg as Mac banged around the kitchen, throwing various alcohols, snacks, sandwiches, and two yogurts into a bag that he got from who knows where -- since when did Mac shop at Trader Joe’s? It just felt like one more thing that drove them further apart.

“Is there a blanket still in the range rover?” Mac asked.

Dennis pinched his nose. Why did Mac ask so many questions? “I assume so, but could you quiet down over there? I can’t eat this god damned egg with you slamming every dish and cabinet in this fucking kitchen!”

“So... I’ll shower while you finish your breakfast and we can go?” Mac asked.

“Fine, Mac, if you’’ stop banging around!”

Dennis washed his plate without eating much more of the egg and had two more mugs of coffee.. The longer Mac took to shower, the more Dennis regretted saying yes to the park, but before he could figure out how to get out of it, Mac walked out of his bedroom in yet another cutoff tank top – was this one new? – his obscenely muscular arms on display for the entire world, but mostly Dennis, to see.

“You ready, bro?”

“Yeah, sure man. Can you grab me a beer for the road?” Dennis asked, grabbing his keys off the counter with Mac following him like a puppy. He hated that. He didn’t have to look behind him to know; it was just the way they worked. He hated _that_ even more.

The sun was hot and beating down on them by the time they got to the park; Mac pulled out the trader joe’s bags stuffed to the brim with god knew what, set them on the ground and started pushing around the trunk.

“What- what are you doing?” Dennis could feel his voice getting more and more shrill, but he couldn’t have Mac going through his things.

“The blanket, bro! I thought you said there was a blanket in here?”

“Well there’s obviously not, so stop digging through my shit, Mac!”

“Damn, ok dude… So what should we do about the blanket?”

There was no blanket. Great. And of course it was going to be his problem to figure out what they were going to do about the blanket. Of course Mac could never figure out anything on his own. Dennis wasn’t sure if Mac would have survived without him up to this point, pretty sure he wouldn’t have actually, and then a small voice from somewhere in the bottomless pit of emotions he tried to ignore said that he _knew_ he wouldn’t have survived without Mac -- so why did it feel like Mac was certain to be his destruction?

Dennis sighed, more loudly than was completely necessary, he was aware. “Well clearly there isn’t a blanket, Mac! I should have known better than to pu-”

“There are some jackets in the backseat; do you want me to grab those? We can use them as pillows! It’s nice enough I think we’ll be able to lay in the grass.”

Dennis hated to admit it, but Mac was right, and the jackets weren’t a half-bad idea either. He pinched the bridge of his nose, “Fine, Mac. That’s fine.”

They had polished off a 6-pack each and it almost felt like old times. Dennis propped himself up on one elbow as Mac laid on his back, both of them laughing at anything and everything. Dennis felt like the thing tightening around his chest had given way a little bit, and he almost let himself reach out and brush something off Mac’s face until he remembered: this was not 2009. They were not what they once were, and they never could be again. Mac coming out changed all of that. If Dennis had left Mac alone physically, it was only because Mac had left Dennis alone emotionally.

Mac sat up, still laughing, still smiling right at Dennis. It affected that thing in his chest so much that Dennis had to look just past him to keep from falling apart so perfectly that he wouldn’t ever be able to put himself back together. He would never do it any other way, of course. Go big or go home, he’d always said.

“You want me to get some weed?” Mac asked, snapping Dennis momentarily out of his implosion.

“You got a guy?” Dennis asked. He wasn’t wasted yet, but he was definitely getting there.

Mac pointed across the park. “I’ve been watching that guy deal it since we got here.”

“Cool, then uh… yeah sure. Do you…?”

Dennis felt his breath leave his chest as he watched the color rise in Mac’s cheeks.

“I just don’t have any cash…”

“There’s a $20 in my wallet… uh, here.” Dennis handed him the twenty and watched him walk, still barefoot, like the idiot he was, across the park to the weed guy. He looked over at where Mac had been laying all afternoon, and the grass was bent to his silhouette. He felt the ache worsen in his chest -- when Mac wasn’t standing right in front of him, he could almost admit it: It was an ache of wanting and never having -- at least not fully.

They had been _fine,_ at least Dennis _thought_ they had been fine, until Mac came out. Until Mac bought him that stupid RPG. Until Mac changed the rules, leaving Dennis alone, feeling the pressures of the closet closing in on him and no one to share it with. How long could he keep up the facade of <strike>not being in love with Mac</strike> being attracted to women? How long could he live with this ache?

Mac returned, holding the weed victoriously in front of Dennis. Dennis snatched it from him.

“Jesus, Mac! You can’t just wave that out in the open for everyone to see! It’s still a felony here!”

“Bro,” Mac laughed, “We’re white… Cops aren’t gonna arrest us for smoking a little weed in the park on a nice day. Can you hand me the pipe please? And while you’re at it, crack us open a couple more beers. and pour some more whiskey into my cup?”

“What am I? Your waiter?” Dennis whined while handing Mac the pipe, “God damn! am I expected to do every last thing for you?”

Mac stopped loading the bowl long enough to shoot Dennis a look they both knew he wouldn’t be able to say no to. “Please?”

Dennis rolled his eyes, cracked open two more beers, and poured some whiskey into each of the cold cups that Mac had insisted they bring along. Dennis had thought he was being stupid, but he had to admit that they were pretty handy -- now they could just mix their whiskey and their beer instead of trying to take surreptitious pulls from the bottle.

They sat crisscross, facing each other, and passed the pipe back and forth. Dennis felt his head start to get lighter, and he felt the giggling start. The ache had unwound itself from his chest thanks to the effects of the whiskey and the weed and the beer, and he felt almost content to just live here in this moment with <strike>the love of his life his best friend</strike> his roommate.

He took another hit from the pipe as Mac pulled a sandwich out of the Trader Joe’s bag and started eating. He wondered if Mac had ended up packing just the yogurt he’d asked for, or if he had made him a sandwich too.

As if reading his mind, Mac said “You want anything to eat? I packed you a sandwich just in case you changed your mind.”

Dennis felt the ache in his chest try to do… something… but Dennis was too stoned and too drunk to care. He knew he would probably regret the sandwich later, but for now he had the munchies and he wanted it.

“Sure, man. What kinda meat is it?”

“I packed our favorites - turkey for you, and bologna for me!”

Mac still pronounced it “buh-log-nuh,” which Dennis almost allowed himself to think was adorable. Dennis pulled a second bologna sandwich out of the bag before finding a turkey and couldn’t put it back before Mac snatched it out of his hands, giggling.

“Dennis!” He whined, or at least tried to whine through his laughter, “this is _my _sandwich!” and Dennis started to giggle with him. “it doesn’t BUH LOG NA you!” Once Mac had gotten the punchline out, he dissolved into laughter.

Dennis threw his head back and laughed so hard he could barely breathe. He knew it was mostly the weed, but it felt like Mac’s stupid joke had shook something loose inside of him; it felt like he wasn’t carrying around a weight in his chest.

“Sometimes I forget how funny you are,” he heard himself saying, and he felt his hand land on Mac’s knee before he’d fully thought through the consequences of that action. He rubbed his thumb against Mac’s leg and almost whispered, “Sometimes I forget how much I missed you.”

“Den,” Mac said, his tone cautious. His tone was cautious, Dennis thought, but that didn’t stop him from reaching out and holding Dennis’s wrist. “I uh…” Mac cleared his throat. “I missed you too.”

As Mac’s thumb began to make soft circles on his arm, Dennis couldn’t help but picture what it could have been.

Mac softened his edges in a way that no one ever had; Mac filled the gaping hole in Dennis’s chest so fully that when they were together, firing on all cylinders, he almost forgot it was there. Dennis had believed they were going to go on like they had been forever. He thought they would die having spent their lives together. Together in their apartment, together in Dennis’s bed, well… just together. Dennis thought it had been enough. It _had _been enough for Dennis. But Mac had wanted more, and Dennis was left with this never-ending ache.

Dennis touched his forehead to Mac’s without the pretense of anything more, and for just a moment the illusion lifted and they were just Mac and Dennis, two men who cared deeply for each other without the expectations of other people.

“You’re under my skin, Mac. What am I supposed to do?” Dennis whispered. He immediately yanked himself out of Mac’s grasp when he realized he needed another shot of whiskey before he completely imploded. And then it was over. The high had worn off, Dennis’s facade slipped back into place, and he grabbed the whiskey and took a pull straight from the bottle.

“We should go soon, probably,” he said, pouring more whiskey and another beer into his cup. He couldn’t have missed the hurt on Mac’s face if he had been on the moon. Good, Dennis thought. Maybe Mac did feel a fraction of the betrayal that Dennis had.

Mac physically shook the hurt off his face and nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. One more beer? It looks like that’s all I packed.”

“Sure, bro.” Dennis said.

Mac just stared at him for a long time, and Dennis realized he couldn’t quite pick out what Mac was feeling.

“Will you, uh, be okay to drive?” Mac finally asked.

“Yes, Mac.” Dennis sighed, “I’ll be fine.”

Mac scowled and grabbed his cold cup to refill. Whether it was about driving or about what had just happened, Dennis couldn’t think about. He wouldn’t allow himself to care about why Mac was annoyed with him this time. They finished the last of the beer mostly in silence. That was probably his fault, Dennis thought, and the thing wrapped itself around his chest again.

They climbed into the Range Rover just as the sun was setting, and Mac rolled down his window.

“Can you pack another bowl for the drive? We might need two if we wanna smoke all the way home.” Dennis asked.

“Yeah,” Mac said, and he began to load the pipe.

Dennis lit a cigarette and smiled. “You wanna trade off? Like we did when we were kids?”

“Sure, man.” Mac said with an edge to his voice. He also rolled his eyes, which wasn’t something that Dennis missed. He was desperate for the easy laughter of earlier to return; he worried they wouldn’t get it back. He worried that they would never get it back, that he would never find anyone else to ease the ache inside of him like Mac had, and that he would be stuck knowing that he had let Mac, the one person who could fill up the gaping hole in his chest, get away.

Mac handed Dennis the pipe and grabbed the cigarette, reaching his arm out the window. He took a drag from the cigarette and scratched the back of his neck like he did when he was nervous. Dennis let out the breath he was holding from the hit and was about to ask what Mac wanted when Mac beat him to the punch.

“So, uh. I’m gonna start dating, I think. Like… dudes.” Mac handed Dennis the cigarette as he exhaled.

“Well, yes, Mac, that’s who gay men normally date!” Dennis heard his voice starting to get shrill and felt his heart begin to pound.

“I mean…” Mac exhaled his hit, and looked pointedly at him, “Not always.”

Dennis had half a mind to ask Mac what _that_ was supposed to mean, but thought better of it and snatched the pipe out of Mac’s hand.

“Well…” Dennis said, working harder than he had in a long time to keep his voice steady, “Good for you!”

“Really?” Mac said, as Dennis took another hit.

“Sure, although I’m not really sure why you’re announcing it to me. This is cashed, by the way. Can you repack?” Dennis reminded himself to stay in between the white lines on the road.

“Jesus Christ, dude.” Mac said as he started to load another bowl.

“What? We’ve literally spent the entire day together and you’re _just now_ bringing it up to me?” Follow the white lines, Dennis thought. If he could just follow the white lines, he could get home, and he could lock himself in his bedroom and he could pretend none of this was happening. He just had to follow the white lines. He looked at one of the street signs and realized they were so close to being home. He was so close to not having to be around Mac, so close to being able to breathe again.

Mac sighed and shook his head. “I guess just… Don’t be surprised if I bring someone home with me, Dennis.”

Even with everything that had happened between them, Mac still said his name with such tenderness; it was enough to make Dennis lose it. He pulled into a parking spot right outside the entrance to their building and practically leapt out of the car. Mac was closer behind than Dennis expected when he turned around, and Mac almost walked right into him.

What if they were past the point of no return? If they had destroyed what they had once had? He wasn’t sure what he would do if that was the case, but he had to be certain; he couldn’t have any doubts before he was forced to watch Mac bring man after man into _their_ apartment, into the space that they had shared for 20 years, before Mac found someone to take the space that Dennis had occupied in his heart for longer than that, and before Dennis resigned himself to living with this constant, insufferable ache inside of him.

Dennis grabbed the back of Mac’s neck with one hand and his waist with the other and pressed their lips together, his body knowing what he needed to do before his brain quite caught up. Mac stiffened at first and then relaxed into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Dennis and pulling them closer together before running his tongue over Dennis’s bottom lip. Dennis opened his mouth and would have sworn that he saw stars; Mac tasted of whiskey and beer and bologna sandwiches, and it was still a better kiss than Dennis could have imagined in his wildest fantasies. After a few minutes, Mac broke the kiss and took a step back from Dennis.

“Dennis,” Mac started, “What the hell-”

“I’m sorry,” Dennis interrupted, words falling out of his mouth faster than he could keep up, “You can- you _should_ date whoever you want, Mac. Even if that person isn’t me. Probably especially if that person isn’t me. I just- I had to know- had to… I don’t know, man.” Dennis could _feel_ his tone getting whinier, and he hated it. “I just… it can all get to be too much for me, man, and… I just had to be sure that… I just needed to know if it was still there. For both of us.”

“Dennis,” Mac softened. “Let’s just go inside.”


End file.
